


Return to Nampara

by LegolasLovely



Category: Poldark (TV 2015), Poldark - All Media Types
Genre: Book Spoilers, Brother-Sister Relationships, F/F, Fluff, spoilers for book one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-27 03:11:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21111710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LegolasLovely/pseuds/LegolasLovely
Summary: Takes place three months after Demelza and Ross’s wedding, Ross’s sister Rebecca, who he hasn’t seen since he went to war, attends a family funeral with Ross.





	Return to Nampara

**Author's Note:**

> Don’t even ask me where this came from! Sometimes, I really have trouble writing characters I really admire and Ross and Demelza are some of those characters. But I was reading about Ross and Caroline’s relationship in The Black Moon and had an idea, what if Ross had a sister? I tried to be as canonically(?) correct with this, but you’re just gonna have to roll with me haha! Also practicing writing in third person without the (Y/N) symbol in the way. Anyway, Hope you enjoy!  
{Warnings: spoilers for book 1/season 1? other than that none? fluff!}

Ross stood tall and still in the library, one hand resting on the chair in front of him and the other holding a letter he’d just opened.

“What’s got you grinnin’ so?” Demelza asked.

He looked to her standing in the doorway. Her long, unruly hair was pulled back with the ribbon he’d brought her from his last visit to Truro. “When did this letter come?”

She put her hand on her hip, recalling. “Soon after you left for Leisure,” she said.

He shook the paper gently, then folded it back up and slid it in his coat pocket. “My sister is coming,” he said, unsuccessful in hiding his grin.

Demelza’s brows shot up. “I didn’t know you had one.”

He hummed. “She’s lived in London with family friends for a long while. She couldn’t stand dealing with our father alone.” He chuckled.

“She left you?”

He rounded the desk and stepped to her, pulling her in from the doorway. His hands rested on her hips. “I left her first, my dear. To fight the Americans.”

“She’s coming here?” Demelza asked. She tried to ignore the nerves growing in her stomach and her trembling fingers.

“She’s coming to my uncle’s funeral, and with any luck, yes, she’s coming here.” He took in her white face. “You will like her- you’re very similar.”

Demelza hummed. Oh yes, Ross’s adored, important, educated and no doubt beautiful sister is just like her. She let him kiss her cheek and tried to ignore her dread at having another Poldark in the house.

***

The morning of the funeral, Ross reached the edge of Truro to meet his sister a quarter hour before the carriage was due to arrive. He dismounted Darkie and waved away Jud and his complaints. “Don’t go too far.” He tied the reins to a tall post and leaned against it, fighting the excitement he felt at the prospect of seeing his beloved sister after years of being apart.

He heard pounding hooves and the rattling of the old bridles and reins and turned his head to watch the carriage pull in front of him. His sister was the only one to get off at Truro. She stepped out and ran to Ross, jumping into his embrace as she did when she was a child. “Ross!”

“Rebecca,” he laughed, setting her feet on the ground and kissing her cheek. Over her shoulder, he watched Jud take her bag from the coachmen before they set off for their next destination. His face fell. She hadn’t brought enough to stay very long.

She stood before him and eyed him. “Look at you!” A delicate finger ran over the scar on his cheek. “My brother’s still so handsome after all that time in America, hm?”

He hummed and rolled his eyes, but took a moment to appreciate her. Her hair had grown long and curled around the small of her back and she’d grown into her angular face just as he had. “And my baby sister is not a baby anymore.”

“No, she is not! I’m a lady now, don’t you know,” she sang, curtsying in jest.

He couldn’t help but laugh at her.

She hugged him again, wrapping her arms tightly around him. “I hate that I’ve brought you so out of the way of Trenwith to fetch me, but I am also glad of it. Could you imagine this reunion at the funeral? I wouldn’t be able to restrain my excitement if I didn’t see you first.”

“And will you be this happy to see the rest of our family?”

“Don’t tease, Ross. You know I love them all, but no one holds a candle to you.”

He hummed with a bright smile on his face. It was not easy to make Ross blush, but if anyone could do it, it was his sister. He turned to Jud and told him to take Rebecca’s bag back to Nampara. “If any item goes missing, do not doubt you will be flogged to within an inch of your life.” He didn’t hold back his threats for Rebecca’s sake, she too knew Jud’s habits very well.

“No, Ross, I’ll be staying at Trenwith,” she said.

His jaw set. “You will not, you will stay with me at Nampara.”

She smirked at his possessive expression. “I cannot impose-”

“You will not be imposing. It is not up for discussion, Nampara is your home.”

“It is your home and your new wife’s home. You don’t need a strange family member encroaching on your bliss after only three months of marriage. I’ve already spoken with Francis-”

“I refuse to leave you in the care of Francis. Jud, bring her things to Nampara. Rebecca, get on the horse.” He offered a hand.

She giggled. Admittedly, she’d missed being fussed over by her big brother. “Yes, Captain Poldark.” She mounted Darkie without his assistance and slid her feet out of the stirrup for Ross to use and settle behind her. “And when will I hear about this lovely wife of yours? I was disappointed when I did not receive quite the in depth letter Verity did.”

Ross grumbled, setting off to a trot toward Trenwith. “I should have known she’d tell you of it.”

“Well, I’m offended, Ross.” Her voice lilted lightly but he knew she was sincerely hurt.

“I will tell you the details on our ride back to Nampara. You’ll meet her before Verity does, if it’s any consolation.”

“Do you think me that childish?”

“Yes.”

She smacked his hands that rest in front of her, but laughed with him.

It didn’t take long for them to arrive at the gates of Trenwith. “We look much too happy together for the morning of our uncle’s funeral,” Rebecca said softly.

Ross squeezed her arm. “Uncle Charles would have wanted us to celebrate your return.” He directed Darkie in front of the pond and dismounted. He took Rebecca’s waist, though he knew she’d slide off the saddle gracefully without his help. He watched her swallow her sadness and nostalgia, kissed her head, and led her through the doors of Trenwith.

The entire affair dragged on, but through all of it, Ross was hardly ever parted from his sister. He held a drawn smile as she was reunited with Francis, and listened to her gush over how nice Trenwith looked under his care, despite the circumstances. The pond shone in the morning light, it must take much time and care. Were those new curtains in the sitting room? They were lovely. And the new turkey carpet in the dining room was also just lovely. Ross smirked to himself, knowing that whenever Rebecca used the word ‘lovely’ she never actually meant it.

Rebecca was on his arm as they walked to the church. She was sat between him and Francis during the mass and was surprisingly strong during the funeral. Her low, smooth voice perfectly singing the hymns brought him back to his childhood when they sat in this order, in this church almost every Sunday. Then his mother died and they didn’t return except once every year for Christmas.

He gave her his handkerchief when her fingers started to tremble in his. His thumb ran over her knuckles and listening to her sniff almost brought emotion to his own eyes. Not of Charles’ death, but of sorrowful reminiscence of a time when his family was happy and there was no unrest between them. He wondered if times such as those could ever return.

They returned to Trenwith and Ross allowed Rebecca to escape him for the first time that day. She rushed upstairs to say hello to Elizabeth out of nothing but propriety, and to visit with Verity. After Ross, Verity was who she was most excited to see. He stood at the window watching the light shine over the pond and waited for her, chuckling to himself when he heard her and Verity’s squeals.

After a few refreshments and goodbyes, they were trotting off to Nampara with Darkie. With every mile put between them and Trenwith, Rebecca’s smile grew a little more. She prattled on about how she’d missed the cliffs and the salt air gathering on the windows. In London, only frost grew on the windows and she detested it. “Now, please, Ross. Tell me about Demelza.”

He had forgotten his earlier promise to her and her question caught him off guard. “Well… she grew up in Illugan. Not far from here, you remember?”

She waved him away with a scoff. “Oh, I know all that. Tell me about her. What is she like?”

He was glad she was facing the other way as his throat worked, thinking of what to say. What could he tell her? “She is nervous to meet you,” he decided on. He felt a fool, like a boy telling his kid sister of his first crush.

“Nervous to meet me? Why? What did you tell her of me?”

“Nothing,” he said.

“You’ve told her nothing of me? Do I not exist?”

He groaned. “Rebecca.”

“So you won’t tell me what she’s like, I will find out for myself when I meet her. But I can see she makes you happy.”

He slowed Darkie to a walk as they came upon Nampara land. A smile tugged at his lips at the thought of seeing Demelza again after such a long and trying day. She had probably been hustling around the house for hours, making pies and scrubbing the floor raw, worried sick over what Rebecca would think of her housekeeping skills. He breathed out a laugh. “Yes. She makes me happy.”

***

Demelza dropped her broom and whipped off her apron at the sound of Ross’s voice. He asked Jud to take Darkie around and as usual, Jud did as he was asked with a cursing grumble. Then she heard a woman’s voice.

“You’re too good for allowing him to stay, Ross.” Her voice was low and strong like his. Demelza peeked at her through the window, but Rebecca’s back was turned to the house. Against the backdrop of her black dress, Demelza could just see the veil of thick, dark hair curling tightly down to her waist.

“Jud was a friend of Father’s,” Ross said.

Rebecca hummed. “Many of Father’s friends are better thrown out,” she said lowly. Then she turned to get a look at the house in the low evening light. She stepped out of Demelza’s view but she heard her say, “Oh, my, Ross! The work you’ve done! It looks wonderful—better than it ever was! Father would be proud.”

Pride consumed Demelza’s own chest. She was glad someone was taking notice of her husband’s hard, unending work. Then she heard Ross whisper his sister’s name. She guessed Rebecca’s emotions had swelled.

“It must be difficult coming back after all this time,” he said.

Rebecca laughed thickly. “It’s my own fault. I lost my temper with Father one too many times and ran off to London, never to see him again.” Her voice broke. “A perfect daughter, I am.”

His soft protests could be heard through the door. “Nonsense. Father was unbearable at the end. No one blames you for getting an education in London, growing in the culture there. You’ve single handedly bettered our name with your travels.”

“Don’t tease, Ross.” Her voice was muffled. Perhaps by Ross’s arms or chest as he hugged her, Demelza thought. She shoved away her absurd twinge of jealousy.

Rebecca huffed and laughed. “Now that I’ve made a fool of myself-”

“Nonsense.”

“Please, please, may I meet your wife now?”

Demelza didn’t wait for Ross’s answer. She bolted out of the room and into his office so she would have a moment to gather herself. She looked in the glass in the corner, pulling on her sleeves and brushing a loose lock of hair behind her ear. Should she pinch her cheeks? No. Ross would know if she had and tease her mercilessly later. Then she heard him call her.

She flew down the stairs and froze at the bottom when she caught sight of Rebecca. She was an image of Ross. Her dark hair and stunning black dress only accentuated her porcelain skin that Demelza guessed was as easily browned in the sun as her brother’s. The sharp, angular features of the Poldarks made her face look delicate and handsomely thin. She stood almost as tall as him and her corset brought the eye to slim curves that Demelza could only wish for.

Then her hands were in Rebecca’s and she forced a smile to her face.

“You must be Demelza. I can’t tell you what a pleasure it is to meet you. I have heard so much about you.” Rebecca glanced to Ross. “Of course, not from Ross directly. There are not many women in this world who can render him speechless, you know.”

Both women looked to him, one in jest, and one in question. His mouth fell agape. “I believe the only two who can are standing before me.”

Rebecca squeezed her hands. “Forgive me, Demelza. I live to tease him.”

“You and me both. Would-would you like some tea? You must be tired from your journey. And I have biscuit-cakes and raspberry tarts. Ross said they’re your favorite.” Demelza flew around the kitchen, putting plates full of warm treats on the table.

Rebecca sat with a wide smile. “You’ve gone to much too much trouble! Oh my, Demelza! Look at all these treats. You are too kind, really.”

Demelza cheeks were enflamed at her praise. “It’s no trouble, I enjoy baking these. They’re Ross’s favorite as well.” She lifted the cooled kettle from the table and set it on the fire again. She didn’t know when they’d come and had boiled water four times before they arrived. She smirked as Ross sat at the head of the table and reached across Rebecca, elbowing her purposefully as he took a tart from the plate. He stuffed the entire thing in his mouth.

“And you call me childish,” Rebecca said.

Now that the kettle was gone, Rebecca saw the hand knitted trivet left on the table. She fingered it gently without moving it from its place. “This is beautiful. Is this from Truro?” she asked.

“Demelza made it,” Ross said.

“Did you? It’s gorgeous. May I look at it?” Her sharp, brown eyes flew up to Demelza’s.

She nodded, thrown by Rebecca asking her permission. She watched as her guest lifted her work and ran her delicate, gentle fingers over the stitching.

“The cabling is marvelous. I’ve tried for weeks and still can’t get it right. I admire you, I really do.” She set it back down on the table and smoothed it with her hands.

Demelza could tell she was sincere and not just trying to make a nice impression on her. Like Ross, Rebecca’s brows were knitted together and her eyes focused. Her lips barely moved as she spoke.

“I can teach you, if you’d like,” Demelza said.

“I would be in your debt.”

The sun had set and the candles had burned down, and Demelza and Rebecca were still chatting happily. Demelza drank in stories of Ross as a child and Rebecca was happy to hear about his present life after the war. They spoke of housing duties and general womanhood, but Ross refused to leave either of them. He was content in their presence, watching both of them become comfortable with each other. Each transformed before his eyes—his sister into an exciting young woman and Demelza into a confident mistress of the house.

Rebecca huffed from her laughing and sighed. “Well, I have stolen both your attentions for long enough. I am retiring for the night and will see you in the morning. Thank you for a perfect feast, Demelza.” She squeezed her hand, kissed her brother goodnight and went off to the small bedroom in the back of the house where her bag waited for her.

Demelza stood, gathering the empty plates, but Ross took them from her and pulled her to sit in his lap. “How was your day?”

She smirked, knowing his aim. “Tirin’. Judas, Ross, I was so nervous I scoured this house from bottom to top.”

He chuckled, pulling the loose ribbon from her hair and watching it fall. He twirled a curl in his fingers. “I had a feeling you would. Everything was perfect but you didn’t have to do it.”

“How was I to know your sister would be so-wonderful? She’s just like you.”

“Her temper is worse than mine,” he said.

“Impossible.”

He kissed her, swallowing her giggle. He drew back, taking in her eyes, her rosy cheeks, and her soft, comfortable smile. She ran her fingers through his curls.

“Was the funeral well?”

He nodded. “It was what he would have wanted. It was long and all about him,” he said with a smirk. “It dragged on and on and all I could think of was getting home to you.” His hands slid down her waist and under her bottom as he kissed just below her ear.

“You didn’t tell me she was so beautiful.”

“Who?” he asked against her skin.

“Rebecca.”

He drew away with a deep chuckle. “I haven’t seen her since she was a child. It’s uncanny seeing her grown, but she’s always acted the same sweet away.” He returned to her neck. “Now will you stop thinking about my sister and kiss me?”

She pushed his smug face away. “A beautiful woman had your adoration and attentions all day. How am I not to think of that?”

“You’ve had my adoration and attentions all day, my dear. And you always will have them.”

She ran her fingers over his cheeks and kissed him deeply. She released him and allowed her bottom lip to slide over his before taking it in her mouth again. She held onto him as he stood and carried her to their bedroom, kicking the door closed with his foot.


End file.
